


love, and its many forms

by days4daisy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Magic During Sex, Anal Sex, Arousal From Killing, Bloodplay, Knifeplay, M/M, Object Insertion, Pre-Thor (2011), Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-17 17:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14194188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: “Would you bleed for me, brother?” Loki asks, quiet. “Would you hurt?”“Yes,” Thor says. “For you, I would.”





	love, and its many forms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heeroluva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/gifts).



> Some Top Loki with bloodplay for you, heeroluva ;)

So many bodies. Such death in the name of Odin All-Father.

The waning moments of battle are static in Loki’s ears. Blood drips from his daggers to the mess of mud and limbs at his feet. The soil is moist from the trampling of heavy boots. Blood that is not Loki’s slides between his fingers.

The scene does not feel real. He himself does not feel real standing in this field of corpses. Loki’s heart slams against his chest, and his vision blurs at the edges. He is unbearably warm.

 _Madness_ , his brain warns. _Weakness_.

Perhaps he is mad, but weak? Loki does not feel weak. In this moment, Loki could claim the Nine in his own name. He could dispel the beasts of Hel and march upon Valhalla itself.

“Are you well, brother?” A hand falls on Loki’s shoulder. Loki bites his lip against the sound that wants to come.

 _I will pull you apart limb from limb_ , Loki would say to Thor. _I will cut your head from your body. I will cast your pieces across the Nine, and the throne you so covet will be mine, brother, all mine, everything is_ mine.

Heat crushes Loki’s stomach like the largest mountain peak. His mouth moves, but no sound comes out.

Thor smiles like his storms; painful, blinding. “Later, Loki,” he murmurs, low enough that none can hear. “Come to me.”

Loki’s assenting exhale shudders through open lips. Inviting his own doom - how like his reckless, stupid sibling.

***

It is near-impossible for Loki to clean his weapons in the aftermath. Loki’s hands shake, and his cock strains against his trousers.

Loki grinds a hand into himself, but it offers no relief. He uses the hilt of a knife next. It is firm against his hardness, but the tension will not yield. Loki bites his lip, cursing the Heavens and Hel. Such _need_ , too great for his own touch to dismiss.

As the palace sleeps, Loki goes to Thor.

It is not the first time Loki has made the trek to his brother’s quarters at night. None can know of their transgressions, two sons of the crown sullied by unlawful acts. Loki lusts for the shame he holds over Thor as much as he lusts for his brother’s body. His perfect, golden brother. Fair of hair and face, strong as the mightiest mountain - damn him. Loki will wrest Thor's power one day and seize the throne he so covets.

Thor’s hair is down and wet when he answers his chamber door. He wears no shirt, the shine of his recent bath on his skin.

Loki wants to carve a line from Thor’s throat to his cock. He wants to tear Thor open, rip entrail from organ, and find what it is that gives the heir of Asgard his worth. Loki pictures him in a writhing puddle of his own blood, gasping for air, pawing for Loki’s aid.

The door shuts, and Loki flings himself into his brother’s arms. Thor chuckles under his mouth, and Loki hisses. “Am I to be your entertainment?”

“I shall be yours, it seems,” Thor teases. He tucks Loki’s hair behind an ear; Loki imagines chopping his fingers off one by one. “I wondered if you would find relief where I’ve had none, brother.” He draws Loki to him with thick arms. “It seems you have not.” Thor’s cock forms a hard line under his pants. Loki slides his leg against it, and Thor growls his appreciation.

How sweet it would be to watch Thor's blood cry across each rib. His damned brother, built to perfection. Loki wants to touch him everywhere. He rakes fingers down Thor’s back, palms his chest, sinks hands into his hair.

“I love you like this,” Thor says.

Loki smile grows spikes. “Of course you do. You know I can’t be rid of you.”

“Would you be rid of me if you could?”

Yes. No, never; Loki would die first.

Loki snarls and shoves Thor’s chest. “Do I look like I’m here to talk?” he says.

Thor flashes a dazzling smile. “Shall I tell you what I want first?”

“No,” Loki spits. “... _Yes_. Damn it, what do you want?”

Thor grabs Loki’s wrists. Scowling, Loki stumbles to him. They stutter together, a knot of limbs that finds its way to the center of Thor’s sheets. They are kissing, hands roaming, bodies twisting.

Loki realizes he is straddling his brother’s waist, Thor’s need pressed between his legs. “I want you to fuck me,” Thor says.

The words are absurd, impossible, and Loki moans like he’s been ravaged. It’s what he wants as well. He wants Thor at his mercy, his powerful body bowed. He wants to watch Thor stagger the halls of Asgard shielding a limp. He wants to possess Thor as utterly as Thor has possessed him.

Loki wants to kill him. He wants to own him. He wants to be the best fuck Thor has had in his life.

Loki hisses against his lips, “I’ll make you regret those words.”

Thor tangles a hand in Loki’s hair and urges him close. Their kiss is bruising. Thor’s groan rumbles against his lips; it sounds like assent. Loki lifts a hand, and their clothes disintegrate into nothing. Thor’s skin is fever-hot. Loki’s cock bobs over his stomach.

He pushes Thor’s legs apart, impatient. Thor follows him, sitting up, fingers fisted in Loki’s hair. Loki bites his lip. Thor shifts closer.

“Would you bleed for me, brother?” Loki asks, quiet. “Would you hurt?”

Thor stills. Loki has found his limit, it seems. His proud brother, absorbed in his own vanity; a true son of Odin.

“Yes,” Thor says, shocking Loki’s thoughts to silence. “For you, I would.”

Loki sees no lie or joke in his brother’s face. Thor’s gaze is even; a serious, sincere blue. “You are Thor,” Loki says slowly. “Not a single blade pierced you in battle today.”

“We are of Asgard, Loki,” Thor says, mouth tipped. “Let us choose our scars, for our enemies give us none.”

How ridiculous he is. Loki scowls, and a blue-hilted blade materializes in his hand. He holds it flush to Thor’s neck. Thor’s smile fades, but he does not tense. “I will not heal you,” Loki warns 

“Take my blood if you covet it so, brother,” Thor says. “And I shall take my prize in return.”

“Your...prize? What prize?”

Thor’s smile returns. “You. Your desire for me inscribed on my skin.” His hands frame Loki’s waist.

Loki sneers at his assumption. This has nothing to do with desire. It’s power! The claiming of what he deserves! Loki thinks this as he kisses his brother, flat of the blade pressed to his throat. Thor groans, as if he lusts for Loki’s control just as much. His ox-stupid brother… Loki will wreck him.

Thor gasps at the first drag of his blade.

Loki stops to absorb a sight so rarely seen. Blood - his mighty brother’s blood in a thin stripe across his chest. Loki’s blade nicked smooth, a delicate line like the finest silk.

Thor’s eyes are strange; ocean-deep and glassy. “Continue, Loki,” he says.

Loki’s lips draw back, affronted. He will decide when he continues. Thor’s body is his to command, he has no say in anything!

“Quiet,” Loki hisses, teeth grit at the point of Thor’s chin. Thor tips his head gladly and bares his neck. He would not die cleanly this way. No, Thor would bleed out slowly, gargling his last.

Loki bites the flat of his throat hard enough to bruise. Thor’s Adam’s apple jumps, and Loki revels in his anxiousness. As he nibbles, his knife works. Delicate lines are drawn into Thor’s skin. He is like a canvass, red weeping from every mark. How beautiful Thor’s blood looks on his body. How wonderful, his groans of pleasure.

Loki follows his own handiwork downward. He tastes the very warmth of Thor's life on his tongue. His lips stain red, smeared by Thor’s blood. Loki licks and kisses until Thor gasps and the hands framing Loki’s sides tighten.

“Have I found your limit, brother?” Loki crows. “Will you beg me to stop?”

“Valhalla,” Thor breathes, “you are beautiful.”

Loki scowls, startled. “Is that all you can say? Your royal blood drains from your body.”

“And your royal mouth consumes it.” Thor traces a thumb across Loki's lips. His touch comes away wet with his own blood. A rush of warmth floods Loki's veins. His cock throbs hotter.

“I will fuck you into your stained sheets, brother,” Loki seethes. “I’ll make you lie on your back and bathe myself in your blood.”

Stunned, he feels Thor shiver beneath him. “Do not tease me,” Thor whispers, voice thick with want.

Scoffing, Loki continues. He does not know what Thor is playing at, nor does he care so long as he gets what he desires. What he desires now is Thor’s blood on his tongue.

Blades sweep across the ridges of Thor's ribs. His blood spills in gentle tears down his torso. It stains his pebble-hard nipples and pools in the center of his belly. It streams down the sides of Thor's body and drenches his sheets in red. Loki drags his tongue over the broken skin. How warm and wet Thor is, sweet steel to the taste.

To think, it is the mighty Thor’s blood on Loki's lips. Unblemished by the fiercest of Asgard’s enemies, yet opened so easily by Loki’s blades! The knowledge is intoxicating. Loki’s vision swims, and a soupy, prickling heat churns in his belly. Above his brother’s torn skin, his breaths shudder.

As Loki drifts lower, Thor threads fingers through his hair. His hands clench, demanding. Loki does not heed their request. He takes his time, licking his way down trails of red.

Hunger pits in Loki's stomach at the sight of Thor's cock. Large and erect, it twitches towards Loki’s mouth. On other nights, Loki has feasted on it and filled his belly with his brother’s seed.

Tonight, Loki refuses the distraction. He licks his lips as he pushes Thor’s legs apart, dark eyes fixed to his brother’s stiffness. Between Thor's stretched thighs, his balls hang full and blushed. For sport, Loki sucks one into his mouth. He rolls it on his tongue and smirks at Thor’s heady moan.

Loki glances up his body, struck by its utter destruction. How damaged Thor is, marred by his own blood! Loki’s heart batters against his chest.

Loki conjures slick onto a hand and winds it around himself. His legs are like jelly. Chewing on a lip, Loki strokes himself. It is a poor substitute for his ultimate prize, but Loki must. He aches for touch, Thor’s blood lingering in his mouth.

It is a consolation when Thor grunts his dissent. “Have I not given what you’ve asked of me?” he demands.

“Are you so desperate for my cock, brother?” Loki purrs. "I'm terribly sorry." He catches Thor’s inner thigh with his teeth. The muscle jumps between them, and Thor's head sinks back.

“Loki,” Thor grits.

Loki nudges Thor’s legs further apart, until the strain makes a tremor shiver through them. Thor’s asshole flutters at the stretch; Loki sees it, like the minute twitch of a bird’s wing.

Loki produces a full jar of oil with the wave of a hand. He releases himself - a dull ache between his legs. Soon, he tells himself. He applies the slick to his hands and plucks the discarded knife resting on Thor’s stomach. Inspiration strikes.

Thor stiffens at the cool touch of metal between his legs. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“Stay very still,” Loki says. He presses the lubed hilt of the dagger inside.

The base of the weapon is swallowed by Thor’s body. Thor shudders, his blood-stained abdomen flexing with the strain. “Are you mad?” Thor asks. He sounds faint, breathless.

Hunger trembles through Loki. “Possibly,” he says. “Do not move, dearest sibling.”

Another inch; the metal sheaths smooth inside Thor. Thor hisses, Loki can no longer tell if he is disputing or asking for more. No matter, this has nothing to do with Thor’s pleasure. Loki needs to have him, he _will_ have him, whatever Thor wants be damned.

The hilt of the knife is not thick, but the curve of its grip makes a curious picture entering Thor’s body. Oil pools in the ridges that Loki’s fingers normally grip. It slicks Thor’s hole, wetting him as he opens.

Loki fits it to the very edge; another nudge would fill him with blade. Thor makes a short sound at how deep the metal fills him. He’s flushed, mouth drawn back in a snarl.

Loki’s breaths speed as he looks upon his brother. How easy it would be to destroy him, one final push to slice him inside. Loki could halve his cock or claim his balls with one stroke. He could turn the blade, bury it deep, and watch Thor bleed out, red and oil congealing.

Loki’s power makes his head spin. Overcome, he mouths kisses to Thor’s stomach. Thor groans, broken skin provoked to new soreness.

"Good, Thor," Loki whispers. "Very good."

Loki plucks the blade by the point and withdraws it in one motion. Its hilt snags the rim, and Thor makes a strangled sound. His hole gapes open with the weapon gone.

Loki does not allow him to linger long. He coats his hand with copious slick, it squishes obscenely when Loki plunges fingers in. Thor moans as openly as a purchased whore. Loki’s heart races. “Listen to you!” he exclaims, grinning. “What would your kingdom think of their heir?”

“They would think…” Thor’s voice breaks, “ _Norns_ , Loki.”

“Hm?” Loki stops, two fingers full-tilt inside. He flexes them deep, knuckles crooked and sharp. Thor’s ravaged groan startles Loki. Need throbs like an open wound between his legs. “What would your kingdom think?” Loki's voice is less steady than he would like.

“Loki,” Thor forces. “You.. _oh_ , I thought it was my body you lusted for, not my words.”

“Answer me,” Loki demands. He withdraws his fingers only to thrust them again. Thor growls, and Loki’s body beats with need.

“Would you not respect a king who fucks as well as he kills?” Thor’s smile wavers. “Gods, am I doomed to your damned hand alone, Loki?”

“Shut up,” Loki says, fingers scissored wide. Thor makes a most unkingly sound and drops his head back.

From Loki’s vantage, he watches the heavy rise and fall of Thor’s chest, skin glistening with streaks of red. He is beautiful, and Loki hates him more for it. “If Asgard learned of this tryst, our heads would be mounted on pikes in the square,” he spits, “don’t deny it.”

Thor looks at him seriously. “I will never let that happen to you,” he says.

Loki blinks, smirk quivering at a corner. “The mighty Thor,” he says quietly as he withdraws his hand. Thor's eyes hollow, a pang of longing at his body unfilled. His stretched hole rests open and dribbling oil, pink and puffed around the crown.

Loki finds no words to say in this triumph. He only fits himself to Thor’s body, pushing thighs wider as he settles between them. His hands leave streaks of slick on Thor’s skin. With a heavy thrust, Loki takes him.

It takes teeth clamped to keep from whimpering in delight. His brother’s body is like the finest of leather sheaths, snug and smooth, a glove fit to perfection. Thor’s eyes roll back, and he groans his pleasure. His hands find Loki’s sides as Loki settles into him. Buried deep, Loki marvels at the strength of Thor's body. Thor’s cock rubs Loki’s belly in a firm line. Under Loki’s hands, the knife scars sketch like engravings on a ceremonial sword. Loki scratches them and revels in the hiss that froths from Thor's mouth.

Loki cannot sit still for long, Thor’s body demands movement. He pulls out and advances quickly again. Their skin smacks, and Thor moans his approval. Breathless as Loki is, he can’t bite back his laugh. If only Asgard could see their prized prince now, prostrated under his own brother. How they would mock Thor, how they would sneer and demand his execution!

Who else would Thor risk ruin for so recklessly? Who else could cut runes into his flesh and draw such obscene sounds from his lips? Loki hates Thor and loves him, craves him and loathes him.

Thor’s body is a marvel, every thrust a chance to watch his face react. A grimace at a failed angle, wide-eyed wonder at a strike landed true. Loki winds a hand around Thor's cock, unable to deny himself. He smears it with oil and and rubs his thumb along the crown. Thor mutters his name, and his neck sinews deliciously. Loki feels nails dig into his sides, red raked lines down pale skin. Shocks of pleasure course through Loki. How dare Thor mark him, where those fools in battle could not.

How mighty they are together, how fierce; the sons of Odin laying waste to all who stand in their path!

Loki clasps a hand in Thor’s hair. He pulls, and Thor growls. Thor sits up, and their angle changes. Loki gasps, forced deeper, and Thor seizes him with heavy arms. His blood cakes Loki’s chest, and Loki allows him a taste. Thor hisses against Loki's mouth, and Loki bites. He needs to hurt Thor, he needs to love him, he needs, he needs-

Something happens. Something white hot and sudden. A fraying pulse cuts through them. It sears like an open flame. Loki hisses, shocked from the inside out. His teeth sink harder into Thor’s lip. New blood coats his tongue. Loki's eyes widen, catching the blue blaze around Thor’s hands.

Idiot - reckless, stupid, terrible _beast_ \- all things Loki means to say. Instead, he says, “Thor,” and keeps saying it. Loki is on fire, his brain lit up like the final blaze of a dying star. He forces Thor close, or Thor forces him close. They are tangled, inseparable, and they burn together in the blaze of his awful brother’s might.

Loki is twitching when he comes to. He is stained in blood, oil, and sweat, cock still sheathed in Thor’s body. He grunts; Thor is on top of him and blowing obnoxious, hard breaths. _Move_ , Loki means to say, but his tongue is sluggish. He only manages a grunt. His head is spinning, skin like pins and needles.

“Loki,” Thor slurs like he’s downed fifty-too-many pints.

“Get off,” Loki finally manages. Obediently, Thor rolls to the side, his body heavy as a corpse. “What the hell was that?” he demands.

“Lightning,” Thor mumbles.

Loki cracks an unimpressed eye open. “Yes, I got that.  _Why_ was there lightning in your bed?”

“You were too good, I suppose,” Thor says, smiling.

Loki should be flattered, but annoyance wins out. His hands are shaking, and the room spins unhelpfully. His limbs feel like jam, and he struggles to splay fingers on Thor’s chest.

From their tips, a dull green light snakes out. It seeps into the slices etched into Thor’s skin. One by one, the wounds begin to seal.

“Wait.” Thor takes Loki by the wrist. Loki’s magic fades at his interruption. “Not yet,” Thor says.

“What?”

“Not yet,” Thor repeats quietly. “Let me feel them awhile.” Loki frowns.

He rolls his eyes to cover his surprise. “Perhaps I’ll leave them for good, idiot. Make you explain yourself to the healers or live the rest of your life like this.”

Thor looks at Loki. After a pause, he nods. “Perhaps you will,” he says, as he threads his fingers with Loki’s. Thor closes his eyes. “Stay, brother,” he says.

Loki snorts. “You truly do want Father to slay us where we lie.” Still, his body feels slow, sated by sex and blood. He stretches at Thor’s side. “If you ever do that trick again, I’ll kill you.”

Thor’s mouth tilts. “I have no doubt,” he says, laced with affection.

Something sour and scared shivers in Loki's chest. Scowling, he chooses to ignore it.

*The End*


End file.
